My Manifesto
by CN7
Summary: There is something out there to protect humanity against. The stars look warm and inviting to us- places to be explored, knowledge to be had, riches to be made. But we will not always be welcome.


**_Friday, April 8, 2157 / Arcturus Station, Arcturus, Arcturus Stream, Systems Alliance Space / 29 years, 1 month, 15 days Pre Reaper Invasion of Earth_**

_"__For the love of God, Jack. Would you just stop thinking for once and feel?" _

Eva had said that just before she… before Ben had…

And I had been rational. I had tried to warn her- tell her that the monolith was more than some evolutionary device hell bent on producing behemoth super soldiers. It was so much worse- a devolution device designed to alert its creators of advanced species and change them. Control them and betray their culture- their people.

Saren had believed me. He had seen the fault in his brother's lust for power, and destroyed him. Why could Eva not have the same sense and accept the fact that the monolith- this indoctrinating device- would never release Ben from its grasp? Did she not realize?

No, no. I guess she couldn't. Not when she treasured him so much. Not when he- even as that… whatever mutated and perverse mimic of a human being he had become- clearly still cared for her.

Their relationship- how special they were to one another- I had never needed to ask. I had known, and Eva had known of mine. Or, at least she understood the shattered remnants of it. So, maybe- just maybe- I could relate to her hunger for optimism and hope for the future of a loved one.

Just why was she so impulsive and brash, dammit? Why had she… Who was I kidding? I knew the answer. What was it she had said?

_"__I'm not giving up. We might make a difference!"_

Suddenly insurmountable pain boiled in my chest, and I clutched the nearest surface to steady myself. Grief overwhelmed me and a strangled sob obstructed my airway. I couldn't breathe. Hot tears stung my eyes and rolled off my cheeks. Whether for my lost friends, or what I was about to do- the reason I was still on Arcturus Station- I knew not. But I was feeling now. Propped against a middle aged oak tree of one of the station's inner neighborhoods, Eva would have been proud. Proud to know whom I was going to see and hopefully… why.

Beneath the twilight lit night cycle, a row of urbanized complexes outlined the streets housed mostly with junior grade Alliance officers and their families. An artificial breeze rustled the leaves of juniper bushes and furled up beneath my softened leather jacket. Crickets chirped, hidden away, and porch lights illuminated the lane for early evening walkers. If I had not known I was actually in deep space- if I had been incapable of staring up at the sky and noticing the artificial star patterns- I nearly could have believed I was back home on Earth.

_Home_, I rolled the thought over in my mind. _Will that even really exist anymore after tonight?_

Running a sleeve beneath my eyes one final time I trotted up the porch steps of a small unit near the edge of the lane, dragged a hand through a tuft of my now clean and combed hair, rolled my shoulders back, and donned an expression to put others at ease. But as rapped my knuckles against the door, I found the happiness harder to replicate.

I lingered merely a few seconds before the large red door creaked open and revealed a striking young woman adorned in a pair of peach silk harem pants and a matching night shirt. Her surprised celadon eyes that made my heart shoot straight into my throat were rimmed by the thickest ebony lashes I had ever seen. Her full lips parted in a slight gasp I had to strain my ears to hear, and her graceful caramel fingers were unhesitant in the pursuit of my cheek. "Jack."

"Hannah." Instinctively, I pressed my face into her touch. A small voice reprimanded my actions. _I really shouldn't have done that. Not here. Not if he's home. _My voice grew a bit darker. "Where's Shepard?"

"On duty," She answered swiftly, a pang of guilt washed over her features. Not one she had intended for my eyes, but one I had certainly seen. Then she gasped. "What… what happened to your eyes?"

"This?" I wondered, pointing up at my now luminescent, turquoise irises. I knew how they must have appeared: ominous, ethereal, quite frightening to someone that knew every single expression and crinkle they could make. "It's…" My voice faltered again and I cleared my throat. "A long story."

I half expected her to break tradition, and ask for the tale I would have rather swallowed glass over than recount. Instead she did what I had always loved about her and accepted my answer for a mere delay, nodded, and gave me time to think. Brow crinkling in either distaste or embarrassment, she withdrew her palm and suspiciously folded her arms across her chest, folding into herself slightly. Was the action… modest or brusque? "Why are you here so late? You didn't tell me you were on the station." Her voice lowered anxiously as she motioned for me to enter and shut the door. "Did the general recall you from your assignment?"

My teeth practically pierced my tongue and my mouth drew into a grim line.

"You… found something, didn't you?" I had never discredited her observation skills. "Whatever General Williams sent you off to accomplish- something happened that you don't want to tell me about."

I shook my head, frustrated, and glanced around the entryway. Quaint would have been a proper way to describe the decor. Pristine leather couches, spotless white carpets, an aura that rang of a home. Regardless of Hannah's own military standing, a _home _was probably something I never could have given either of them. Not her… and not our son. And staring intently at a picture of a man holding a toddler with Hannah around his arm- she'd once hung around my arm like that- I knew regardless of my own personal misgivings, they were lucky to have James Shepard in their lives. He was steady, not easily whisked away on roguish desires. A rock they could lean against.

But I still wondered how a dreamer like Hannah could stand it.

Ignoring her questioning, I marched towards the arched hallway on the opposite end of the room, and followed the path to the second bedroom on the right. When my fingers closed around the door handle, Hannah grasped my hand and pegged me with a hard stare.

"Whatever it is, Jack, the war is over. We've made peace," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Humanity has been invited to the Citadel. We've been assured of an ambassadorial position. Our people will be protected by the Alliance and our new associates. Humanity is safe for now. The Hierarchy is no longer a threat to us. We can turn a new leaf and progress."

"Protected?" I growled. "Hannah, the Alliance nearly toppled under turian pressure. The Council was _forced_ to interfere. They couldn't bare the shame of an extinct species on their hands. Might have tarnished their reputation. Those skull-faces would have extinguished or enslaved us. I know you weren't on Shanxi, but you had to hear of the atrocities- the war crimes. I don't know where you can come up these idealistic notions about humanity's safety just because we've made an appearance in Citadel space, and we're brokering trade treaties."

Green eyes grew wistful and her hand came to rest against my chest just above my thudding heart. A shiver ran up the length of my spine, but if she noticed she did not say. Instead she pegged me with a wishful smile, albeit I detected hesitance in her tone. "Call me an optimist, but you used to be one too- an idealist. What happened to all of your theories about humanity's potential?"

My eyes glazed over with the image of happier times: Hannah drawn up into my lap, fiddling with my palms on the hood of my car, sunset highlighting the crimson undertones of her hair, dreaming of a brighter future amongst the stars in the final frontier. "We'll have it all soon. Human ingenuity is resilient and endless. We're probably the most adaptive, creative race the Council will have ever seen. These races hit us with anything we've never seen before- we'll have it improved within the week."

When she began to grin widely, rediscovering the man she had once told me she cared deeply for, I shook my head and stared listlessly into the crown molding, wondering how many human hands had been used to polish it. I could have informed her of Eva's death then and there, of Ben's fall into servitude for a threat even I knew nothing of. After all, she had met them both- had been friends with Eva since late adolescence when I'd encountered her on that boardwalk one summer. Perhaps that was too courteous, or perhaps I simply did not want to extend Hannah's grief. After all, tomorrow morning I would be dead as well.

Or at least, Jack Harper would be.

She wouldn't have to worry about me anymore. Neither for her sake, nor for the sake of little boy on the opposite side of the door. And with bitter acceptance, I gently grasped her forearm and told her, "I'm going back out into the field… I may not come back this time."

_Liar, _my conscience whispered, feeling the absence of the destroyed monolith and the grip of the woman I once loved tightened around my arm.

"What are you talking about?" She protested quietly. "Of course you'll be back. I- he needs you."

_There is something out there to protect humanity against. The stars look warm and inviting to us- places to be explored, knowledge to be had, riches to be made. But we will not always be welcome_

"He doesn't need me." Again I shook my head from side to side. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. _God, _the thought of my son not needing me. It killed me inside. But I could protect him. I would protect him and _her_. I would establish a better humanity for them both. "He has Shepard. I may not care for your new taste in men on a personal level, but he'll be a good father. Let him forget about me. It'll be better that way."

_Those who came before may not be willing to share. This is the way things work. It is inevitable. A dark time is coming. Humanity will be tested. And while we may not know who is doing the testing or why- we must me meet the challenge as we have met all others._

Tears swelled in her eyes, but she bit them back forcefully. "How could I possibly let him do that?"

"Not hard," I admonished with a bitter laugh. "His middle name is James for god's sake."

"Not for my husband," she protested with fiery eyes. "For your father. For James Harper."

I swallowed again and pushed the door slightly. "Alright." My voice broke and caused me pause. "But, know that humanity will never be safe. There's something bigger out there. Remember, the only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible, and any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. But it isn't, Hannah. There's no magic. All of those feats- they're ours. Remind him of that for me. Please."

_We will succeed, because to do anything else would be… inhuman. We will watch the dark places- and bring illumination. There is no magic- only technology. Tools that we can master. Tools we must master. Not just to survive, but for the betterment of mankind._

"I will." And then, she kissed me on cheek, and let me pass into our son's room for the final time.

At once I removed my jacket and hung it on the doorframe. He had always liked curling into the sleek leather to pretend he travelled the galaxy, fighting 'bad guys' and going on adventures to explore space and anything that lay beyond. Maybe he wouldn't remember me. I hoped he wouldn't. But at least the jacket could be a comfort if he ever felt lonely and wondered why. Or, for Hannah.

Galaxies soared across the ceiling and constellations hovered above all the miniature furniture of his room. An empty aquarium illuminated the desk and the model ship kit beside it. Books and toys were haphazardly lumped together in a pile beneath a bookshelf. His closet door was shut tight to dissuade the entrance of any monsters.

And there on the toddler-sized bed in the corner my son sat up, rubbing sleep from beneath his big, aquamarine eyes. I was certain his irises had yet to cease changing. I was positive they would become more like his mother's- bright and fresh like new grass after a spring shower. Although, she argued with me of course and said they'd turn out like mine. Or… how mine had been before.

"Babba?" His small, tired voice hummed. Tufts of unruly red hair stood upwards and out against his head. When his arms widened, I gladly accepted the offer to hold him. Probably the last opportunity I would ever have.

"I'm here, buddy," I whispered, stroking the top of his head as he yawned into my chest.

"Will you read the stars for me?" He asked groggily, gesturing towards the imitation of Perseus drifting mere inches from my face.

And so I did. One last time, I told him of our ancestral stories and encouraged his drive to see them all.

_We can and will take our rightful place in the stars. This is my manifesto._


End file.
